Pax Christi Chorale oversees the Bruce Kirkpatrick Hill Memorial Fund. This season the fund is being used to bring 50 high school students into our production of Handel’s SOLOMON. By facilitating this opportunity for young musicians to sing alongside trained adults, a professional orchestra and soloists, we hope we can pass on our love of great choral music to the next generation. I know Bruce would have been pleased as punch about this.
It is simply incomprehensible that a year has passed since Bruce died. I figure pretty much everyone reading this blog was a friend of Bruce, so I don’t have to explain to you what a huge black hole he leaves with his not being here.
Bruce was a totally unique person. I know that I am not alone when I think of him and smile.
I think of him every day. I smile when I think of his confident cleverness, his west-coast warmth, his sparkling eyes and swaggering gait; his kilt-wearing hairiness, his geeky bookishness, his boisterous hymn singing; his Vespa-riding, croissant-eating, traffic light-cursing stubbornness; his oblivious obsessions, his zeal for adventure; his cuddling of small animals, his patience with inquisitive children; his tongue-chewing organ-playing music-addicted nothing-held-back passion for life. It just seems stupid that he’s not alive.
Bruce is the only person I have ever known that actually did know everything. I am serious. Ask him basically anything and he knew the answer. But he couldn’t throw a baseball worth a darn.
Few Ontario farm girls expect to catch a future husband in a monastery on the east coast of the USA, but on a summer evening in Orleans Massachusetts, that’s the way it went. Our lives changed on August 15, 1989, and changed again on March 18, 2012. Everything changes all the time. I guess it just takes a lifetime to make any sense of that.
If you knew Bruce, please remember him on March 18. Light a candle, call a friend, drink some scotch, apologize to someone, listen to some Wagner; remember that life is a gift.